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When we got notice of a school art show, it was obvious that my boy would be entering some works. He is a constant creator of art. So this was right up his alley.

Supplies were gathered.

The supplies sat for a while, almost overwhelming, until he had a creative idea. Before long, paint was going on canvas.

And clay was sculpted, fired and painted.

Little brother watched the work come to life. (yes he is shirtless. His paints are not washable and his painting clothes were dirty).

And he created some beautiful artwork that will hang on my walls and sit on my shelves for as long as I exist.

It’s hard to believe my chickens are, well, not spring chickens anymore.

The hens I got last year are all grown up and making eggs of their own now. It will soon be time to break out the freeze dried mealworms and Cheerios in celebration of their hatchday. They will be 1!

Since I have no idea when Omelette was born, we’ll celebrate his hatchday too.

Outside in the wild growing jungle of my lilies and iris and other assorted perennials prowls a ferocious tiger.

He lurks and hides and waits for the proper moment to pounce on his prey…

…and then he naps.

He may look tough, but the only things I’ve ever seen fall victim to his prowess are some butterflies and a few grasshoppers.

For the past 11 years, my life has been blessed by two very special girls.

They will be turning 12 this spring. 12 years has gone too fast. I remember my father once told me they just don’t make dogs live long enough. How true that is.

These two ladies have played out many shenanigans. They have many times protected me. They have watched over my babies as they grew into little boys. They have offered me their soft heads when I was sad. They have cowered in fear during fireworks and thunderstorms. Without a single doubt I know they would throw their lives down to save my own.

I am thankful they are both still in good health though they move slowly and sleep a lot. They stink and don’t see so well. Their hair is everywhere. They leave their footprints on the floors and the bedspreads…… and they have left their footprints across my heart and my years.

The fuzzy she’s curled up with in the picture below she’s had since she was a puppy. It’s her “woodchuck” and she still sleeps with it.

My blonde in the picture below is sleeping where she does at the feet of the boys. Always near them. The green toy next to her is her favorite toy from puppyhood. She long ago tore out the squeaker and she only has the energy now to play with it for a few minutes, but she always reaches for it when she wants to play.

There are small quiet moments in each and every day that twist my heart up a little like a pretzel.

This one particular moment, my boys were outside doing whatever they do in the dirt. My baby (who’s 4 and not really a baby any more) came running up to me with all sorts of excitement radiating through his little body. He could hardly contain himself when he told me he found a beanstalk and it was going to grow all the way up high to the clouds and he was going to climb it someday and find me gold.

And his fat little fingers took my work-calloused hand and pulled me toward his find. It was this:

There went my heart. I wish so much I could make it be true that this casually unfurling fern could be what he believes it to be. And I hope beyond hope that he always sees so huge with those big chocolate eyes of his. Maybe he wont always see beanstalks in the heavens but whatever he sees, I would do anything to make sure it’s always that magical.

My flock of chickens has grown by two today.

I went to the store to buy food for my six chickens and ended up leaving with two of these:

My boys have named them Sunny and The Claw (the “The” is officially part of his/her name).

They are fuzzy and sweet and mostly sleeping under their heat lamp for now. They will grow up fast and before long will have moved out of their box in our kitchen and into the coop with the rest. We will shower them with affection in hopes they grow up to be docile and loving like the older chickens who live here.

Those of you who have been following my blog for a while now know that when I’m not taking pictures of people, I also enjoy macro photography and nature.

Spring is here and so are many of the early-blooming flowers, so my camera has been out with the macro lens attached to capture nature’s delicate paintings of the world around me.

I love the fragile, brilliant colors of butterflies.

My 4 year old held about as still as he possibly could to get this little butterfly to land on his fingers. He was so excited that it worked.

Something was amiss the other day…

I was turning up an area of field near our barn to start a new pumpkin patch with my rototiller and all of a sudden, it clunked and chugged and the blades stopped spinning. I turned the tiller off and started dismantling the blades and noticed something had jammed them. Upon closer inspection, I saw this:

It appears to be the fragmented head of a cabbage patch doll… in my pumpkin patch. I’m not sure what, if anything, it means. I do find it just a wee bit creepy.

Spring is here and I’m soaking up the fragrances and sounds.

I’m celebrating the colors of spring and the warm air scented with spring buds and fresh earth. I’m welcoming the return of our recently arrived fair-weathered, feathered friends and all of their beautiful songs that fill the early mornings.

Welcome spring!